This week, it took five days before I wrote my first journal entry. That’s unusual for me. When Sabbath morning finally arrived, I woke up later than usual—and in that quiet, I sensed the Lord gently say, “Just be with Me.”
It had been another long, full week, and the rest was needed. As I began to reread the summaries of the stories we’ve been collecting since 2024, I started with good intentions—to discern what God has been doing in people’s lives. But slowly, I drifted into a task mindset. I began categorizing themes, parsing verses, and even asking ChatGPT to help me organize it all. Before I knew it, I had moved away from Sabbath.
What started as reflection had turned into production. My good intentions had become distractions. The busyness of my week was sneaking its way into the sacred space meant for communion with God. Sabbath is supposed to be the time I lay down my doing to simply be—to make room for the Holy Spirit, to rest in the presence of the Father.
This week, the Spirit reminded me that even holy work can become unholy when it replaces intimacy with God. The invitation remains the same: “Just be with Me.”
A New Practice in Christ
This week, I found real delight in discovering something new. As I continued reading In Search of God’s Will by Trevor Hudson—our current Renovaré Book Club selection—I came across his description of the 16th-century Ignatian Exercises. Hudson writes that these Exercises are “a gospel-based journey in which we come to know, follow, and love Christ more intensely.”
He outlines four movements in this journey:
- Mercy – Recognizing our sinfulness and God’s deep compassion.
- Engagement with Jesus – Walking with Him through His hidden and public life.
- Engagement with Christ on the Cross – Entering into His suffering love.
- Engagement with the Risen Christ – Living in the joy and power of His resurrection.
I’m captivated by the depth and beauty of this framework. It’s as if the Exercises provide a sacred pathway through the story of Jesus—one that shapes the heart as much as it informs the mind. Out of gratitude for St. Ignatius’s contribution to spiritual formation, I’ve begun to research these Exercises further and even ordered a modern English translation aligned with contemporary practice.
I sense that this could become an important part of my own spiritual rhythm. My hope is to experience these movements personally and, in time, share what I learn with you.
When Work (Even Godʻs Work) Replaces Being Present
I must admit—I didn’t experience God’s nearness as I usually do when I sit to write this reflection. It felt a bit like being a teenager retreating to their room, choosing solitude not for communion but separation—away from the warmth of family.
How quickly the rhythm can slip away, even when the busyness seems holy. “The Lord’s work” can subtly pull us out of His presence if we’re not careful. I’m reminded again how fragile the boundary is between doing things for God and simply being with Him.
Solitude and Sabbath have been life-giving practices for me—precious times of communion with the Lord. Yet this week revealed how easy it is to take them for granted, to substitute sacred stillness with spiritual activity. When I awoke on Sabbath morning, I felt the Lord’s gentle nudge—a reminder of what I was missing.
Like Peter insisting that he could never deny Jesus, I realized how easily I too can distance myself from His presence. Not with words, but through neglect. Through busyness. Through doing instead of abiding.
And yet, even here, grace meets me. The same Jesus who restored Peter restores me—and you—inviting us again to simply be with Him.